Lace Off Your Shoes
by SkeletonCircus
Summary: She was a runner, NOT a studier. The breeze through her fiery red hair and the quiet tapping of her sneakers hitting the pavement captivated Lily Evans' senses during her distance runs at dusk. Her escape from reality was spoiled when a certain nemesis of hers decided to join her. Said nemesis, James Potter, however, offers a bet that sparks Lily's interest. Challenge Accepted. L/J
1. Running Through the Night With You

**Hiyaa theree! I was on my evening run the other night and was inspired! Sometimes, I refuse to believe that Lily Evans was so similar to Hermione, like a lot of fanfictions make her out to be. I really don't believe that Lily was all about books and studying. So then I thought, what if she was a runner? And then it all started making sense to me. This Muggle-born girl needed to have some sort of hobby before she discovered her magic. I thought running would be a perfect fit for Lily because it is something that you can always get better at, and although I don't believe that she was all about grades and studies, I do believe that she was a perfectionist. So this is my cute little story about Lily and how her escape from reality turns into her escape fom James Potter which turns into her escape _with_ James Potter. Enjoy! This will be either two or three chapters!**

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**DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own Harry Potter.**

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I slipped on my sneakers and laced them up, and then proceeded to glance at my watch. It was six o'clock on a Tuesday which meant that I had just finished dinner, a handful of Gryffindor students were at Quidditch Practice, and I had exactly three hours left until curfew. My long, red hair was carelessly curly and borderline untamable, so I decided to just throw it up in a high ponytail and away from my green eyes.

I stood up from my seat on the grass just outside of the Hogwarts Castle, and pressed a few buttons on my watch to start the stopwatch. From there, I took off on my daily run.

I decided to take the path along the tree line of the Forbidden Forest and then run the perimeter of the grounds. There was a light breeze, just enough to be a comfort. My slender legs relaxed into my usual pace and I was beginning to feel the exhilaration that running brought me. Strange, most people might find it, especially people of my sort. Witches and wizards obviously don't see the benefits of running when they are always sat upon their brooms, flying around like hooligans. Of course, I would never tell anyone where I actually went at six o'clock every night. My friends always assumed that I was at the library, getting some good quality quiet studying in. I laughed at the thought of that even slightly being true.

Before I knew I was a witch, I dreamed of going into the Olympics and participating in a running event, maybe the 5k. Whenever someone would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would just tell them that I wanted to be a gold medalist. They would always smile and compliment me for 'dreaming big.' Petunia would always time me as I ran around our neighborhood, and we would celebrate together once I would beat my previous time.

But that was before I met Severus and discovered that I was _different_. That was all before Petunia hated me for being what _she couldn't be_. That was all before everything became so _complicated_.

I wouldn't change being 'magical' for anything in the world, but that doesn't mean I don't love going back to my roots, where everything seemed so simple.

As I ran, I looked up at the sky. Tonight, it was a mixture or oranges and violets as the sun began to set. In the distance, I heard owls chirping away and the faint splashing from the Giant Squid in the Black Lake. I still couldn't grasp the concept of this being my last year hearing the familiar sounds of Hogwarts. I wasn't even sure about what my life after Hogwarts was going to be like. A few career paths interested me, but my uncertainty was too prominent at the moment to actually lock in a decision. I still had the rest of the year to think about it, since the school year only just started a month ago. I pushed these stressful thoughts from my head and focused on the present. Running had always brought out the meaningful thinking. It was something about the feel of the breeze running through my hair and the reminder of solitude that evoked those thoughts. I began humming to myself. My muscles were warmed up by now, and I lowered my arms to perfect my form. The tall grass rustled as my sneakers made contact with it. But then I soon realized that my feet weren't the only ones hitting the ground at this time.

"Evans? What the bloody Hell are you doing?" Of course, the last voice I wanted to hear, was speaking from somewhere behind me.

"Running," I replied, not bothering to look behind me. _Don't encourage him, just give him one word answers, show your disinterest, and he'll leave you alone,_ I reminded myself of the strategy I had planned out so well for situations like these.

"I can see that," James Potter stated. I heard him jogging behind me to catch up with me. He was in his Quidditch robes and as always, his black hair was a complete, pathetic mess. I was beginning to think that he liked it that way, and was under the impression that that dreaded hairstyle looked good, because his hair was like that even when he didn't just come from Quidditch, "I mean _why _are you running?"

"Shouldn't you be at practice?" I hissed. I couldn't believe that my evening run was being spoiled by such a brainless git whose hair looks like it just faced a tornado slash hurricane slash tsunami, because he was also drenched in sweat.

"I decided to end practice early today. Everyone was complaining about how they needed to finish this Transfiguration paper due tomorrow. I can't believe them, Transfiguration Class is a breeze," Potter rolled his eyes. His flashy Captain badge caught my attention and I rolled my eyes at his arrogance. Transfiguration was _not_ easy, "Dammit, Evans, will you stop running?"

"No, I will not stop! I have fifteen more minutes until I'm done with my forty-five minute run," I snapped.

"Which goes back to my question of, _why are you running?_" Potter raised his eyebrows.

"Because _I enjoy running_," I answered, getting quite annoyed.

"You're a weird one, you know that, Evans?" James shook his head.

"Stay out of it! How did you even know where you find me in the first place?"

"Because I'm a Marauder," James stated as if it were obvious, "I can find out what anyone is doing and where they are at any hour, moment, time of any day."

"I think the correct term you are looking for is _stalker_," I wearily pointed out.

"Ah, Evans, you're too funny, that's why I love you! Hey, since we're on the topic of love, want to go out tomorrow?" James questioned me excitedly. When was this torture going to end?

"You couldn't have picked a worse time to ask me that, so congratulations on that one. The answer however, is still no, and it will remain no for…well, for forever," I informed him. I tried to speed up my pace to get away from him but he just mirrored my acceleration and remained by my side.

"The best time to ask Evans out…_is all the time_," James dementedly sang.

"That was disturbing."

"I know, disturbingly good singing and devilishly good looks is a bit overwhelmingly charming," James pushed back his hair in a rather poor attempt to impress me.

"Are you aware that with every encounter I have with you, you manage to piss me off, or is that how you plan it?" I asked dryly.

"Oh, Evans, lighten up!" James laughed as if it were nothing, "It's all in good fun."

I glared at him, and decided to take back on the ignoring technique. I continued on with my run but to no surprise, he kept up with my pace. Checking my watch, I noted that I only needed to deal with him for approximately ten more minutes.

"Evans, how about we start over? I feel like we always get off on the wrong foot," It spoke again. I huffed, realizing I couldn't just decline that offer.

"Hi, I'm Lily Evans," I chose to humor him.

"I didn't mean literally," James chuckled, "Hey it looks like it's going to rain…"

As if right on cue, the angry clouds overhead made the decision to grace us with overwhelmingly cold rain water. I couldn't help but let out a small screech because of the sudden downpour.

"Nice call, Potter, you could be a meteorologist."

"What's that?" James glanced at me in confusion. His black hair was completely stuck to his head now, drenched from the rain. I assumed that my own hair was in a similar, horrid condition.

"Never mind," I quickly said, remembering that Potter was a pureblood so of course he didn't know any Muggle references. I knew for a fact that he didn't pay any attention in Muggle Studies, so I shouldn't have expected him to know any Muggle career paths.

"Are you still going to run in this rain?" He asked incredulously.

"I have five more minutes," I shrugged, not too bothered by the rain any more.

"Just enough time to race me back to the castle?" James grinned mischievously, "Ready, GO!"

"What?" I yelled in disbelief as James took off, full speed in the other direction. I realized that being alone was not in my best interest, since the sky was darkened by the storm, and even if I did have the misfortune of Potter being the only source of human life within a mile radius, I decided to run after him, "You forgot to say 'set'! You can't just say 'ready, go' without the set! I wasn't set!" I shouted as I chased after him.

Of course Potter beat me.

And I was pissed.

"Potter!" I roared, the sore loser I was. Strands of my red hair that had fallen out of my ponytail were sticking to my forehead, and I probably looked downright dreadful. He was standing triumphantly right outside the doors, his arms folded right over his chest, "That wasn't fair! You had a huge head start and I slipped and…"

"Whiners never prosper, Evans," James snickered.

"It's '_cheaters' _never prosper! You would know because _you are a cheater!_" I emphasized. The sound of thunder booming from somewhere up in the clouds made me jump a bit, ruining my intimidating nature, and causing James to laugh even harder.

"Fine, Evans. Same time tomorrow! Starting right here, we'll race down to the Quidditch Pitch, across to Hagrid's Hut, all the way up alongside the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, and back towards the Black Lake. First person to make it to the Lake wins."

"Deal," I folded my arms across my chest, "But this time, no head starts."

"Fair enough, let's make it a little more interesting," James had that smirk on his face again and it was starting to scare me, "Let's make a bet out of it, shall we?"

"Alright," I agreed, a bit brazenly, "If I win you have to take a swim in the Black Lake."

"So basically you wish to watch me freeze to death, and then proceed to become a meal for the Giant Squid," James remarked, sounding a bit insulted by my side of the bet.

"Well don't lose and you won't have that problem," I challenged, my overconfidence getting the best of me. James seemed to have picked up on this and the playful smile on his face returned.

"Alright, deal," James nodded fairly, "But if _I _win…you have to kiss me."

My jaw dropped a bit stupidly, wishing I hadn't been so shameless beforehand to even get myself in this situation. I really needed to work on my weakness of being a bit too impulsive. But my pride got the best of me and I couldn't back out now. Besides, it's not like this was a bet on who could score the most goals in Quidditch. This was a bet on something _I _was passionate about: running.

Almost inaudibly, I gulped, desiring to swallow up the single word I was about to speak.

"_Deal_."

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	2. No Turning Back

**I'm sorry that this took so long to get out! My life has been spontaneously busy within the last two weeks. I went to Warped tour and it was beyond amAzing (I met ALL TIME LOW) But I'll talk more about that in my next update of SYWM. I hope you enjoy this, this is the last chapter and I loved writing it! BY THE WAY: I loosely based this song off of the song Check Yes Juliet by We the Kings. It's not quite a songfic but it definitely inspired me a lot. That's where the whole "Lace Off Your Shoes" comes in. PLEASE REVIEW!**

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**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING HARRY POTTER.**

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_Same time tomorrow,_ I thought, darkly laughing to myself, _yeah, right. That was too easy._

The coast seemed to be clear as I stepped outside at seven-thirty at night, exactly an hour and a half later than Potter had expected to be meeting me for our little 'bet.' Clever me, of course, got out of that silly competition and didn't show up. I mean honestly, I didn't have time for his nonsense. He was so immature.

Alright so I was scared of losing the bet.

But could anyone blame me? I mean, don't boys automatically run faster than girls?

I sighed angrily as I tightly laced up my sneakers. I was annoyed at myself for being intimidated by Potter's silly bet. To make myself feel better, I imagined Potter waiting around for an hour expecting me to _actually _show up.

Now I was just being cynical. I mentally scolded myself for having mean thoughts, even if they were amusing.

The sound of squeaky new running sneakers on concrete seemed to be stepping their way behind me. With a large, obnoxious yawn, James Potter announced his presence and took a seat next to me.

"Thanks for that extra hour and a half, Evans. I needed a nap anyway," James mentioned nonchalantly. I stared at him incredulously. He was wearing black mesh shorts and a Puddlemere United navy blue shirt, "By the way, Holyhead Harpies? I should've known you supported them. All of those girls are bloody awful at Quidditch."

"Hey!" I yelled, looking down at my own shirt. The dark green t-shirt with the golden talon clearly represented my favorite Quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies, which happened to be an all girls team. I rolled my eyes at him, "You know that isn't true, and I'm not about to debate this with you."

"Good, because there is no argument you can make, Gretchen Thompson is probably the worst Keeper in the entire league!"

"Enough, you," I lowered my eyes at him, "Were you waiting outside for me all this time? That's pathetic."

"Of course not, I knew you weren't going to show up at six o'clock," James had a smirk playing on his lips.

"How?"

"Like I said before, I'm a Marauder, I have my resources…"

"That's utterly creepy," I hissed.

"Actually, it's very useful. But enough about _me_, let's get on with this thing, shall we?"

I didn't respond, instead, I had an angry staring contest with the ground beneath me. I was so close to being able to go for my evening run without the pressure of James Potter's antics.

"I get that you were nervous, Evans, but no one backs out of a bet with James Potter."

"Let's get on with this, then," I hissed, refusing to sound defeated. I saw James get up and stretch obnoxiously.

"Right, Evans. We'll start here and run down to the Quidditch Pitch to our left. Then we'll make a right and run across all the way to Hagrid's Hut. We'll then run up the hill following the tree line of the Forbidden Forest all the way back to the Black Lake. First person to hit the sand of the Black Lake wins and their side of the bet will prevail. Do I need to remind you of my side of the bet or do you remember?"

"No need to remind me, James. You aren't going to win," I gritted my teeth. His arrogance was at an all time high, as I expected, "Who calls go?"

"I suppose both of us will countdown at the same time, since I know you don't trust me."

"Fair enough," I nodded, "No cheating. No magic. It's a foot-race, Potter."

"Alright Evans, are you ready?" James turned to look at me but my eyes were set on the course, "On go…"

"Three," I began impatiently.

"Two," James continued.

"One," My left foot was ahead of my right. My right arm pulled forward while my left hung back. I tilted my head down, focusing all of my strength on my calf muscles and my toes.

"GO!" We both yelled in unison, taking off. I lifted my head up. James seemed to have been starting off in a full on sprint to gain an early lead. I shook the temptation of catching up to him this early on away. That would be foolish.

He was only about fifty meters ahead of me anyway. This entire course had to be about two miles, give or take. I knew my two mile time was an impressive eleven minutes and four seconds. I could handle this.

I let Potter dictate the course because I knew these grounds well, probably having a major advantage over him. My feet knew when to dodge the recurring bump or tangle in the grass that could cause a twisted ankle. These grounds might as well have my footprints carved into them.

The run towards the Quidditch Pitch was irritatingly direct, a perfect diagonal. I yearned for the turn around the tree where I could catch up a bit, knowing that there was know way Potter knew how to properly run a curve in the track. He would most likely slow up a bit, allowing me to gain some time.

But he still wasn't letting up. I expected him to start off as a sprint, of course, but I didn't think he would be able to keep that pace this long. I made the turn around the tree at the entrance of the Quidditch Pitch and Potter seemed to be about 100 meters ahead of me now. They couldn't possibly run during practices for Quidditch. I mean, all they did was sit atop of their brooms lazily. Maybe Quidditch did use some leg muscle that I was not aware of.

I couldn't even see Hagrid's Hut from where I was, and I knew I had a long way to go. It came to my realization that Potter had a very good chance of winning this bet. The consequence of that crept into my mind and I fought to ignore it. I will not kiss James Potter. More importantly, I will not allow James Potter to beat me at something I'm good at. I'm much too stubborn for any of that.

I knew it wasn't smart, but the frustration got the best of me and I sped up quite a bit, destroying my usual two mile pace. This would definitely affect me later on because I was using my energy up too early. I needed it to last me. Telling myself that it didn't matter who got to Hagrid's Hut first, and that it mattered who got to the Black Lake first didn't exactly help. The anger is what drove me.

Beads of sweat were forming on my forehead and I didn't even bother wiping them away like I normally would have. That would only disrupt my perfect form. I found myself glaring at the back of Potter's head. He was only about fifty meters ahead again but as my legs rebounded off of the rocky ground quicker, I could see him more in detail. His black hair was stuck to the back of his neck from sweat and I crinkled my nose in disgust, unwilling to admit that I didn't look any better. His arms were especially toned, obviously from his Chaser position on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Although it shouldn't have surprised me, it did. He was quite muscular; I had never just taken the time to study him before. He was athletic, that was undeniable, but that only made me want to beat him even more. I wanted to take satisfaction by the look on his face when he saw that tall and scrawny, Lily Evans, had beaten him in a simple running competition.

But I wasn't even sure if I could do just that. The kid was fast and it was getting dark now, so I was losing my footing a bit when it came to the uneven ground. I sped up just a bit more to catch up with him and I knew that he sensed it. He turned, looked straight into my emerald green eyes, smirked, and just ran faster. I should have never made a bet with James Potter.

We were a little bit more than halfway done as we looped around Hagrid's Hut. The tree line of the Forbidden Forest would probably be the hardest part of the course. It was a steady uphill, and the dirt path had several uneven patches and rocks to evade. As my feet hit the incline of the hill, I began to panic. There was nothing quite like running uphill and the challenges it brought.

It was nearly impossible not to slow down. I had run this path so many times but the hill never got easier. I only took comfort in the fact that James was struggling as well. He might do laps for Quidditch practice but there was no way he had experience with uphill running. I noticed his shoulders slouch a bit while I kept my posture up tall. If I was going to beat him I knew I had to beat him on the hill because after it there was only about 200 meters left until the finish, and I knew I wasn't capable of beating Potter in a 200 meter sprint. My knees were killing me but I couldn't let that stop me.

James had slowed down a lot on this hill, and I didn't blame him. It was a tough hill but I had trained on it everyday. I lowered my arms, took shorter, quicker steps, and aimed to pass him. I just hoped it wasn't going to be too late. I saw the end of the hill approaching and I knew that if I didn't force myself to sprint all out now, I would end up losing, and losing was not an option.

So I took off, despite my body fighting against me, begging me to slow down. The pulsing pain in my quad muscles from the devastating hill was screaming at me to stop. But I wasn't going to stop until I saw myself doing a victory lap while James took a swim with the Giant Squid.

The shivering breeze of night time rushed through the air, temporarily slowing me down. James was only a few steps ahead of me so I took this moment to speed past him and conquer the hill. I spat on the top of the hill the second I passed Potter. Ladylike, I know, but this was my turf Potter was trespassing on. I'd seen him do it about a thousand times on the Quidditch Pitch, and what better time to mock him; while I was leaving him in the dust.

I heard his tired breathing from behind me, knowing he was close. The pounding of his sneakers let me know he was definitely speeding up.

But I wasn't about to let this be a tiebreaker, either.

The last 200 meters I let my legs fly through the air, as if I was barely touching the ground. My long legs fit the perfect stride and I knew I only had about twenty-six seconds left of this race. As I felt my feet hit the sand of the Black Lake, the rush of victory washed over me. James was beside me in seconds, gasping for breath.

"Lace off your shoes, Potter," I exhaled, exhausted but on an adrenaline rush from the distance run, "You're going for a swim."

My hands were on my hips as I turned to face him. I had every right to be conceited at the moment, and James knew it. His hands were on his knees as he looked up at me from underneath his circular-rimmed glasses and his messy black hair matted to his forehead.

"Fair enough," he breathed, clearly in shock that he lost, but not willing to admit his disappointment. Funny, I always pictured him to be a sore loser so this definitely perplexed me, "Want to go for a five minute cool down run first? You know, you can't just come to an immediate stop after a workout."

"True," I agreed, "Let's jog a bit, if it makes you feel better."

"Lace off your shoes, Evans," James suggested, "And don't be so hostile."

I wasn't sure if he meant that literally or figuratively so I just slid off my shoes with him anyway. We jogged together for a little bit, bare foot on the sand.

Once our cool down was over James and I stood on the dock of the Black Lake. I was smirking a bit. The air was chilly from nightfall and the breeze sure wasn't helping. James seemed indifferent, however. He casually pulled his shirt over his head and stood there in just his shorts, throwing his shirt to the side.

"Don't worry, Lily, I find comfort in the fact that you definitely chose my punishment to be a swim in the Black Lake so you could see my amazing abs," James glanced over at me, still beaming for some reason.

"No way," I denied, "And since when are we on a first name basis?"

He shrugged, smiling to himself about something. I blinked, unsure of what was possibly going through that mind of his.

And then I found out. And trust me, it wasn't pleasant.

James had made it seem like he was getting ready to jump into the Lake. And he sure did alright, but not before grabbing my arm and making me topple over and fall into the chilling water with him. I screeched at the top of my lungs as the icy water shocked my body.

"POTTER!" I yelled as I resurfaced in disbelief. He let out a booming laugh, completely amused with himself. I realized that he didn't even let go of my arm. I could go on a long rant scolding him but I was speechless.

James must have been expecting me to scream at him because he was looking over at me sheepishly, probably knowing what he did was wrong. But he couldn't help it, he was James Potter. Instead of yelling, I exhaled deeply, and began splashing him obnoxiously. Needless to say, he let go of my arm.

"You pompous idiot," I declared half-heartedly. James continued to gaze at me. I took a moment to examine his appearance. His hazel eyes, usually flickering with conceit were now softened, playful, almost. He had forgotten to take off his glasses so there were spots of water on them. He was shivering now, as was I. We must have looked like idiots.

I don't know why or how I found humor in this, but I let out a small giggle. Maybe it started out of embarrassment, due to the knowledge of how bad I probably looked. But then it grew into something more. Soon enough, James and I were cracking up laughing together.

"James, what are we still doing in the Lake?" I asked suddenly, between laughs.

"Lily, since when are we on a first name basis?" James teased.

"You know, I should be mad at you right now," I pointed out.

"But you're not, cause we're friends now," James grinned.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well considering that you haven't stormed out of here yet…" James began.

"I guess you're right," I said slowly, "Let's get out though, before we freeze to death."

"Accio towels!" James said the minute we climbed back onto the dock. In moments, two towels appeared in his hands and he handed one to me. I thanked him and wrapped it around me, shivering violently.

"It's s-so c-c-cold," I stuttered, my teeth chattering. I hugged my chest, attempting to lock in some warmth but it was useless.

"Come here," James suggested quietly, outstretching his arms and welcoming me underneath his towel. I gladly accepted the warmth as he hugged me into his chest. I couldn't believe I was embracing James Potter.

He rested his head on top of mine, since he was a solid six-foot-two while I was just five-foot-six.

"This was fun," I mentioned briefly.

"Fun because you beat me?" James guessed.

"Well, I can't deny that…but I mean, I don't know, I had a good time," I wasn't sure what I was saying but whatever it was I genuinely meant it.

"Me too," James agreed, "I can't say that I didn't underestimate you though, Lily. You proved me wrong; you're absolutely brilliant at running."

"It's my passion," I shrugged, taking the time now to be modest, "Just like you're brilliant at Quidditch."

"Did you just compliment me?" James asked, quite surprised.

"Yeah, I think I did," I smiled, looking up at him.

His face was inches away from mine and I felt my eyes close naturally.

We kissed. Despite all the bickering and the rivalry we had our previous years, in this moment, I knew it was meant to be.

As he pulled away, he gazed into my eyes and with a glowing smile he said, "I'm really glad that you beat me today."

"Why?" I couldn't help but smile back at him, a little overwhelmed by everything, but still blissful.

"Because our first kiss wasn't determined by a bet," James told me.

"Same time tomorrow?" I suggested, still beaming.

"Oh, it's _on_, Lily," James nodded excitedly, "Bring it on."

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